


Another Virtue For The Change Of Elevation

by frenchpirate (Whiskey_n_speed)



Series: fashionista!verse [3]
Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, M/M, Minor Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-24
Updated: 2014-07-24
Packaged: 2018-02-10 05:49:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2013429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whiskey_n_speed/pseuds/frenchpirate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>fashionista!verse #3 </p>
<p>They’d sworn that the fooling around that had happened back then had been a thing that belonged in high school, and everything after than was nothing but platonic, and they’d been able to keep that. Almost, at least. </p>
<p>It was just hard when Brendon looked at him like that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Another Virtue For The Change Of Elevation

“I wrote contracts with another model for the Fashion show today.” Brendon exclaimed proudly as he slammed the door to his office open, revealing Ryan sitting at his desk with a coffee cup, exactly where he’d left him. 

“That’s nice. Pete was down here with a few of the outfits.” Ryan said and nodded towards a stack of paper in the middle of the desk that hadn’t been there when Brendon went out. He’d been at this nice little café with the girl, barely out of high school but breathtaking and with eyes that could probably kill, but she’d smiled at him when he’d told her that they’d love to have her walk their catwalk. 

“Do people really buy this?” Brendon frowned, looking at the first piece of paper, which had a picture of a dress that looked mostly like it was made out of plastic on it. 

“Y’know, the catwalk outfits are mostly for publicity. The actual collection comes in the magazines.” Ryan explained and Brendon bit his lip and nodded, sitting down at the edge of his desk. 

“Where’s Spencer?” He asked, then. 

“Looking through the rest of the outfits. Doing actual work, y’know.” Ryan grinned, and Brendon nudged his shoulder. 

“Yeah, we’re someone here who can’t just idly sit around all day.” Brendon cringed. “Let’s go downstairs before Spencer comes in and tells us to do things.”

Ryan quickly got up and followed Brendon further down the corridor to the elevator, sneaking past Spencers door where they could hear low, annoyed mumbling and rustling of paper. For a moment, Brendon felt a little bad that it was Spencer who had to go through all those stacks of paper and then give them to Ryan who then went upstairs to Pete and took all the credit. But then again, it wasn’t like Spencer didn't secretly love his job, and it wasn’t like Brendon didn’t know who was really in charge of what most of the clothes looked like. After all, Pete weren’t the most competent CEO and besides, Spencer truly had sense of fashion like no one else.

“My boys.” Joe exclaimed in a dramatic voice when Brendon and Ryan stepped into the spotless lobby where he resided all day. “I’ve been expecting you.”

“How could you have time for that with _all_ these people you have to deal with?” Ryan asked sarcastically, gesturing towards the deserted lobby. 

“Shut up, I had like, two journalists and a lost soul who was looking for a law firm this morning.” He said and shot his chin upwards. “Mr. Ryan ‘Busy’ Ross – my _ass_ man.” 

Brendon rolled his eyes and pushed open the back door behind the marble counter, leading them out to the narrow passageway between Clandestine and the next building. There was rarely any light here, mostly due to lack of space as well as the garbage containers that almost blocked each end of the passage. It was the ideal place for any kind of shady activities, and Ryan was often thankful for the fact that they seemingly were the only ones that had discovered it yet.

“So, what’ve you got today?” Brendon asked, sitting on the asphalt with his back against the brick wall, Ryan next to him and Joe across from them. 

“Kashmir Super Deluxe. It’s European quality.” Joe grinned and threw a little transparent plastic bag at them. Brendon studied the contents of it with skeptic eyes, while Ryan just nodded and shrugged. By now, he rarely ever knew what Joe was talking about, he just went along with whatever he had gotten his hands on that day. It usually worked anyways.

Thirty minutes later Ryan felt like his brain didn’t really fit in his skull anymore and Brendonds head was resting drowsily on his shoulder. Ryan was sitting with his head tilted back and his eyes closed, the few beams of sunshine that managed to make it’s way into the passage hitting his face. 

“Breathing is so weird man.” Joe stated, breaking the silence that had been dragging out. 

“Breathing isn’t weird.” Ryan said and opened his eyes, frowning at Joe. 

“But like, the air just goes in and out and then where does it go?” He asked, scratching his uncontrollable hair and staring at something right in front of him. The air, probably. 

“It goes nowhere.” Ryan said determinately, and Brendon just giggled. 

“It can’t go nowhere, things can’t go nowhere.” Joe continued. 

“We’re not going anywhere.” Brendon contributed before breaking into another fit of giggling, still leaning on Ryan. 

“This conversation isn’t going anywhere.” Ryan grinned, looking down at Brendon who’d closed his eyes from laughing so hard, keeping a hand on his stomach. 

“I’m gonna go ask Patrick about the air. He’s so smart.” Joe said, nodding to himself as if he needed further confirmation. 

“Hey, I’m smart too.” Ryan called as Joe with slight difficulty maneuvered himself up from the asphalt by leaning a lot on the wall and then going back inside the Clandestine building. 

“Yeah, and pissy.” Brendon said in between high-pitched giggles. 

“Shut up.” Ryan mumbled and shoved him, but couldn’t help but start laughing himself as well.

Their loud snickering echoed throughout the passage for minutes before it finally died down a little, and then they both sat all sore and breathless from their laughing fits. 

“What do you think Spencer is doing?” Brendon asked curiously, leaning his head on Ryans shoulder again. It had been really comfortable like that. 

“Looking at glittery shoes.” Ryan said with a lopsided smile, and knowing Spencer as well as he did, he was probably right. 

“That sounds nice.” Brendon mumbled, his breath halfway on Ryans neck, and Ryan shivered lightly. Brendon then started giggling again, and Ryan turned his head to look at him, but ended up with half of his face mostly buried in Brendons hair. 

“This is nice.” He mumbled back, his words muffled a little by Brendons thick mane, but Brendon understood what he said and nodded. 

“I never wanna get up.” Brendon decided, pushing himself closer to Ryan.

He suddenly remembered spring days in high school, skipping biology or trigonometry to sneak out behind the art facilities and sit in the art teachers flower beds and get high while they could hear the soccer team run laps over on the other side of the bleachers. Spencer had refused to go with them most of the time, even back then. Which was probably what had resulted in, all titles aside, that it was him who was in charge of any major decisions in the long run, and Brendon and Ryan who sat in an alley, too high to function properly, giggling like they were still sophomores and not far out of college.

“I wanna make out.” Brendon said after a while like that, all pressed up against each other, turning his head up towards Ryan, his mouth almost already on his neck. 

Ryan looked back at him, one pair of brown eyes almost golden in the sun, meeting another. His was reflective while Brendons were just innocent and eager. They’d sworn that the fooling around that had happened back then in the flower beds, had been a thing that belonged in high school and everything after than was nothing but platonic, and they’d been able to keep that. Almost, at least. 

But it was hard when Brendon looked at him like that. 

“Okay.” Ryan just found himself saying, even though it was probably dumb to start all that up again, but maybe it was the heat, or maybe the Europeans really had some tricks when it came to pot, but either way it suddenly seemed like a really good idea. 

He quietly leaned in and put his lips to Brendons, and it was like all the laughter that had filled the passage before had vanished completely, not even a fading echo left.

The only things Ryan could hear were the pedestrians walking by on the other side of the garbage container where a busy street was leading it’s daily life, a couple of birds above them and then Brendon exhaling heavily through his nose as he eagerly met Ryans kiss and fisted his hand in Ryans t-shirt, pulling him closer. 

When Ryan licked into Brendons mouth, as he’d done hundreds of times before, making it feel familiar and comfortable by now, Brendon couldn’t help but giggle into him.

Ryan pulled back for a moment and raised an eyebrow at Brendon. 

“What?” He asked with a grin. 

“We used to do this _all the time_ ,” Brendon said. “Why did we stop?”

‘Because we grew up’, was the first thing to strike Ryans mind, but when he thought about it, there wasn’t really anything grown about Brendon, nor really about himself.

They still liked all the things they did when they were seventeen, hung out with the same people – Spencer, mostly – and avoided as much work as possible in favor of things like this. Everything was pretty much still the same, except now they sat in an alley behind Clandestine instead of in a flower bed behind an art room. 

“Because we’re stupid.” He ended up replying before leaning in again, this time more passionately, wrapping an arm around Brendons shoulder and entwining their legs a little.

They sat like that for a while, all caught up in each other, and didn’t break apart until the back door between the lobby and the passage was slammed open again. 

“I asked Patrick and he says that-“ Joe begun excitedly, before spotting Brendon and Ryan, who quickly untangled themselves and looked up at him with warm cheeks.

“Oh.” 

“Um.” Ryan just said, while Brendon just started giggling again. Ryan would’ve gotten tired of it by now, if it wasn’t because Brendon giggling was one of the things he’d probably never grow tired of. 

“Old habits die hard, huh?” Joe grinned, and Brendon hid his face in Ryans shirt. 

“What? How do you-” Ryan started, frowning, but Joe cut him off. 

“I talk to Spencer sometimes, y’know.” 

“Oh. Right.” 

“Anyways, Patrick said something about air being constant and it doesn’t really depend on time and that’s why it doesn’t need to go anywhere. I don’t think I really understood it.” Joe explained, continuously nodding to himself. 

“That’s great.” Ryan just said. 

“I’m gonna leave you alone now.” 

“Thanks.” Ryan smiled and Joe grinned at him before closing the door.

*

Ryan kept telling himself that what happened in the alley was a one-time thing, and it only happened because they were so high that it heavily affected the reasonability of the decisions they made. It was overall a really stupid monologue because he kind of wanted to do it again, even now that he wasn’t high. 

“I looked through the first few outfits and wrote down things that needs extra attention on the back of the paper,” Spencer told Ryan one morning. “Could you please go upstairs with it?” 

“Sure.” Ryan shrugged and grabbed the stack of paper that Spencer handed to him.

It was a quick trip upstairs, and he didn’t feel like hanging around up there after handing the outfits to Pete, as everything was absolute mayhem up there, as usual. It hadn’t gotten any better after Pete hired that new guy to take care of Department Z and teamed him up with Gabe Saporta so Vicky had _yet_ another person to hate. But whatever, it wasn’t really any of Ryans business, thank God, considering that he stayed downstairs where there was less drama and more pot.

When he came back downstairs again, he went past the bathroom where he almost ran headfirst into Brendon who was standing in front of the mirror, washing his hands.

Ryan lingered next to him, watching Brendons reflection in the large mirror. 

“What?” Brendon asked and looked up with a grin. 

Ryan didn’t really know what to say, he had no idea how to express what he was thinking without sounding like an idiot. Maybe he kind of was an idiot. At least he felt like one when he instead of saying anything just took a step forward, all up into Brendons personal space, and quickly pecked his lips before stepping back again. 

“I wasn’t really done,” He finally admitted, Brendon cocking an eyebrow at him. “With that, y’know.”

“Are you done now, then?” Brendon asked with a dramatic pout, tilting his head a little. 

“No.” Ryan just said, a little frantic, before throwing himself headfirst at Brendon, sliding his hands around the back of his head and aligning their mouths, breathing hard and fast as he felt Brendons hands tighten on his hips. He started walking Brendon backwards, pushing him up against the sink, and Brendon eagerly lifted himself the last couple of inches so he could sit on the edge of the sink while Ryan stood in between his legs. 

“I have a meeting, Ryan.” Brendon mumbled into his mouth in between two heavy kisses. 

“Okay.” Ryan just said, not really having any intention of moving and let Brendon leave the bathroom, but it wasn’t like Brendon complained either, he just wrapped his legs around the back of Brendons thighs and kept opening his mouth for Ryans tongue.

*

“So, what’s up with you and Brendon?” Spencer asked, trying to sound discreet but not really managing to. 

“What do you mean?” Ryan said and cocked an eyebrow at his friend, knowing that it was pointless. Spencer could look through him without any effort whatsoever, no matter how expressionless Ryan would become from time to time. It was the downside of having known Spencer since middle school, having taken high school as well as college with him, and now, quite impressively, having managed to end up in the same company as well. Spencer simply knew him too well. 

Which was why that when Spencer just crossed his arms and sent Ryan an indulgent look, his ears got warm and he had to look at his feet. “I don’t know.” 

“You don’t _know_ ,” Spencer repeated, and Ryan was pretty sure that a smile was about to break out on his lips. After all, it went both ways after knowing each other for more than ten years. “That funny, because Joe seems to know, and I think I know too.”

Ryan hadn’t been in Spencers office for more than five minutes and he already felt kind of violated. He couldn’t help but smile though, when Spencer shook his head at him. It wasn’t more than ten minutes since Brendon had left the bathroom for his meeting with a new potential model for the catwalk, and Ryan had actually just dropped by to pick up a few more copies of some of the outfits. He just hadn’t really gotten that far, because then Spencer had started asking questions that he already knew the answers to better than Ryan did.

“I thought you’d stopped that a long time ago.” Spencer said, dropping down on his office chair. Ryan sighed and leaned on the doorframe. 

“Yeah, well, we got nostalgic.” He shrugged sarcastically. 

“ _Or_ , maybe you just haven’t mentally evolved since your late teens. _Or_ , maybe you just shouldn’t ever have stopped.” Spencer suggested, and Ryan didn’t know which of the statements he agreed the most with, or which one that annoyed him the most. It was a close race. 

“We’ll figure it out.” He assured, and at that, Spencer laughed out loud. If Ryan hadn’t loved his arrogance so damn much, he would maybe have been a little put off by it. 

“Yeah, good luck with that.”

Ryan left the office, convinced that Spencer was able to figure more things out about Ryan than what was fair, and probably also more things than Ryan could figure out about himself. Sometimes it was nice like that, because the little hints about what the hell was going on in his head when he couldn’t really comprehend it himself were golden, and then other times it was like this. If Joe really wanted the smartest answer to all his deep pot-inflicted philosophies, he should probably just ask Spencer instead. The guy knew everything.

*

Later that week, Ryan was lying on his bed, trying to remember what he’d felt like when he was sixteen and used to make out with Brendon between the art room and the bleachers. It wasn’t as easy as he would’ve hoped it might be, mostly because at sixteen he’d felt _everything_ at once, in higher amounts than what a teenage brain could handle. 

He tried recalling what exactly he’d thought about the whole thing with him and Brendon, but all that popped up in his head was Spencers scoffing when they came back for lunch break with swollen mouths, the art teacher yelling at them when they’d trampled his flower beds _again_ , being high half the time and Brendons warm mouth. And after a while, he came to the conclusion that as a sixteen year old boy, he probably hadn’t thought all that much about it. And it was most likely a really bad idea to start thinking about it now.

He didn’t really get the time to ponder all that much about either, because then his phone went off somewhere in one of his countless blazers, and he had to look through all of them to locate it. He caught in in the last moment, and picked it up. 

“Ryan?” 

“Brendon.” Ryan said, then shooting a glance at the clock above his stove. It was 11:30. He rarely received phone calls at this time of the night, except on weekends maybe, but as far as he was aware it was only Wednesday. 

“I’m outside your house.” Brendon stated, and Ryan frowned as he went over to the kitchen window to look down at the street, where Brendon indeed was standing, phone to his ear and waving his free arm in the air, as if Ryan couldn’t see him just fine in the light from the streetlamps. Idiot. 

“ _Why_?” Ryan asked. 

“I have _no_ fucking idea,” Brendon admitted. “But can I come in? It’s December and my jacket _really_ didn’t catch that.” 

Ryan went over and pressed the key button on his entry phone, and a moment later he heard the sounds of Brendon climbing the stairs on the other side of his front door.

When he unlocked the door to reveal Brendon, all red-cheeked and with a Beanie pulled all the way down to his eyes, he couldn’t help but smile. 

“Kiss me.” Brendon just demanded, and Ryan couldn’t really see any reason not to, so he reached out and gently pulled Brendon over the doorstep and into his apartment. 

“Spencer thinks we’re stupid.” Ryan said as he maneuvered Brendons jacket off and threw it on the ground and then his beanie, leaving his hair all messed up. 

“Spencer always thinks we’re stupid,” Brendon shrugged, clenching his hands in the front of Ryans shirt and pushing him backwards towards the couch. “I’ve gotten used to that.” 

“Maybe we _are_ stupid.” Ryan suggested. 

“Maybe,” Brendon agreed in a humming voice and sat Ryan down before climbing into his lap, pressing their foreheads together and ghosting his lips across Ryans between each sentence. “But in that case, I think I enjoy my vague daftness.” 

At that, Ryan decided to stop talking and kiss Brendon properly.

 


End file.
